


Final Bidder

by gala_apples



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first auctionboy Peter ever hires will probably be his last. You can't get any better than this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Bidder

Peter swallowed as he looked up at the flashing sign. The neon lighting only said Dreamz, with no advertising in the drawn curtain windows, but everyone in the short line knew what this place was. People didn’t come to this sort of place accidentally. If his mother could see him now, standing outside a club like this. There were a lot of things Mrs Petrelli didn’t put up with. Peter had no doubt that hiring an auctionboy for a night would be one of them.

He shoved his hands further into his pockets, trying not to think about it. The line took too long to enter the club, at least it did in his opinions. The coworkers he’d come with spent the time telling dirty jokes, seemingly uncaring that anyone could drive past and take pictures of the waiting johns. Auctions were legal, that didn’t mean they weren’t good blackmail material. When he was finally the man being patted down, Peter did his best approximation of a smile. The bouncer didn’t smile back. at the man in the doorway and followed the other guys in. 

The worst of it was over, Peter thought. He was safely inside, no pictures to blacken the Petrelli name. From now on, he would likely be okay. After all, it wasn't like anyone knew him here. This was never going to get back home. His brother would never have a chance to tease him and his mother would never have a reason to sit him down for a long discussion. 

Peter followed his coworkers to a table. He picked up the drink that someone put down in front of him and allowed his eyes to look around the room. A man in the corner turned and eyed him. Peter swallowed, then decided he’d look a lot less like a pathetic newb if he was swallowing around a drink. He gulped at his stein, trying to ignore the way his cock stiffened under that knowing look. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by the first person he saw. If he was going to let himself fall to his deepest desires, the very least he could do was keep a clear head until he got a good deal. Still, the man was a good first person to see. Peter allowed his eyes to travel up the long, tanned legs, along the sharp lines of his hips, up across his torso, glimmering with moisture as he moved, up along-

"And there he is," the guy next to him muttered. Peter turned away from the slow dancer in the corner to see. Aaron had been talking about the man he got outbid over for the last month, since the next morning’s watercooler discussion. For him to be as good as Aaron had claimed, he’d have to be god.

Peter was the kind of man who enjoyed a bit of a tease. He started at the bare feet on the stage and really soaked them in before he allowed his eyes to move further up. The man’s legs were enclosed in a dark shade of denim, tight enough that Peter would bet the man could barely bend his knees. Further up there was a rip and Peter could see the suggestion of smooth, muscular calves underneath. His eyes moved upward. Oh. There was another rip and Peter could see thigh. Beautiful, lightly freckled thigh, the muscles stirring as the man moved. He presented his other just in time for Peter to get a good look at his ass, the smooth plane of his back.

“I take it back. Good taste, Aaron.”

“Damn right.” he replied. He held out his stein so Peter could clink his against it. 

"Natey! You’re mine tonight!" someone called. The auctionboy’s response was simply to turn to the side, to show off his profile.

Wait. Natey? 

Navel, stomach, nipples, neck, all sailed past as Peter looked up suddenly. And there was no question about it. That face. That was his _brother’s_ face.

Peter's eyes scanned the crowd as the bidding started, his eyes flicking between the bidders and Nathan, who moved sensually on the stage. He finished off his drink and turned his eyes quickly back to the hall. Nathan shifted again, his jeans seeming to slip even further down his hips -was that possible?- revealing another inch of pale, freckled skin. Peter licked his lips thoughtlessly. His mouth felt very dry.

It was wrong, Peter thought. He couldn't - he shouldn't - but as his brother stretched his arms again and his chest and shoulders and stomach tightened, Peter realised his cock was becoming hard. He swallowed, blinked, and tried to turn back to the rest of the hall.

"Twelve hundred dollars," Aaron cried to the room. He grinned widely, rubbing his hands together. Peter shifted guiltily, doing his best to ignore the man's greedy smile. Nathan closed his eyes, face turned up to the ceiling, mouth open slightly in a suggestion of ecstasy.

And Peter put his hand up.

It was such a surprise that Peter almost gaped at his own arm. His hand waved in the air and the caller nodded to him. "Thirteen hundred dollars."

"Fourteen hundred!" the other man cried. 

Nathan opened his eyes again, his eyes searching the room as they narrowed.

Peter's hand shot forward again. "Fifteen hundred," it was a lot of money, really. If he had had a reason to bet maybe he might feel otherwise, but-

"Sixteen hundred!" Aaron offered.

"Seventeen hundred!" There was no answering cry. Just the sound of a hammer and then a cheer. Peter breathed heavily, staring out into the room. This was insane. _He_ was insane. A hand clapped him on the back, congratulating him, and then he found himself pulled towards the stage so he could be given ‘Natey’. 

Nathan took his hand and kissed the knuckles before he led him off stage. As soon as they were on the ugly carpeted floor, Lee introduced the next man. They were already old news, to everyone in the club. Except to Peter. This was fresh, this was new, this was insane. He kept following Nathan down a hallway of doors. If they could just get alone Peter could explain this was all a misunderstanding. He could ask what Nathan was doing, all inappropriately sexy on an auction stage. It’s not like he needed the money, like most auctionies.

Turning the handle of the door he stopped in front of, Nathan leaned to the side to whisper in Peter’s ear. "What name would you like me to scream out when you're making me writhe?"

Peter could feel his heart fighting to be free of his chest. His hand was still in his brother's. He shook slightly at the thought. A name. A name. He had to think of a name. It was obvious that either Nathan hadn't recognised him (which was unlikely, he had been sitting on his sofa only three days ago) or that he was pretending he hadn't. Of all the times for his mind to go completely fucking blank.

"Do you always ask for personal details?" he asked instead, trying to keep his voice gruff and detached.

Nathan laughed. He actually laughed. And then Peter heard the door open and felt a warm, moist hand wrap around his wrist drag him inside. He found himself standing face to face with Natey, chests an in from touching. It would have to be Natey, because Nathan would never have that look on his face. That look like he wanted to eat Peter alive. Nathey took a step back to peel his jeans off, then stepped in all the closer.

"Tell me, tell me everything you want." Natey’s request was punctuated by a buck of his hips against Peter's groin.

"I-," Peter gasped. His hands twitched, lingering in the air an inch from each of Natey's hips. His mouth felt dry and his tongue seemed thick. He looked up at the man's chest, trying hard not to look down. Nathan's eyes were dark, his lips were reddened and wet. His tongue flickered across the plump lower lip and disappeared again. Peter followed suit and swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from his brother's dark gaze. He closed his eyes and shuddered as he felt the brush of Nathan's cock against his own. Even with his own jeans on, he could feel everything.

Nathan reached out and grasped his chin in a strangely tender hand as he moved his face closer. "Tell me," he whispered, as if they shared a great secret. Peter could feel the warm, moist breath of his brother on his lip and he squeezed his eyes closed, reaching out to grasp his brother's hips and he tried to move their faces closer.

"I want," he muttered, his eyes trailing down his brother's body. "I want to touch you. I want to- to taste you. I - I want-." His voice was shaking, not just in nervousness but now in need. 

"Do you want to fuck me?"

Peter started at the words. He leaned forward, hanging his head slightly. His throat worked against the word. He knew what he should say, but somehow there was only one word that would form, in his mind and on his lips."Yes," he murmured. "I want-," he swallowed. "I want to fuck you."

Nathan's smirk was a picture of sin, but it felt strangely comforting. Peter shook slightly, moving away, standing back and letting his eyes look over his brother. Why should he hide it now? He had said it, he had said the words aloud. It was clear enough, how he wanted to bite and suck and fuck the body before him. What good would averting his gaze possibly be?

Nathan’s fingers slid slowly down Peter's chest and stopped over his fly. A single pull of his fingers and Peter's trousers fell from his hips. Nathan's next move was guiding Peter’s hand both tenderly and authoritatively between his legs. The flesh around Peter’s fingers was slick and hot. The thought that Nathan had expected to be used, considered it enough of an inevitability to pre-prep shot right to Peter’s cock.

Nathan was smiling, the seductive ‘Natey’ smile that Peter had never seen before that night. Peter expected the only expression on his face was slack jawed horniness. Nathan moved forward, keeping one hand tightly around Peter's while his other reached forward and wrapped around Peter's rock hard cock. His rough fingers brushed against the heated skin with detached affection. The hand stilled for a moment before Nathan grasped it more harshly, looking Peter in the eyes, his own narrowed. “Ready?”

Peter nodded. Nathan moved his legs so first one then the other were wrapped around Peter's waist. It was an absurd chair, Nathan’s back against the patterned wallpaper, knees bent at a sharper angle than they normally would be. Peter pulled out his fingers, and a moment later his older brother impaled himself on his younger brother's cock. "Fuck me then. Make me moan."

He did. And Nathan _did_ moan. Peter wasn’t sure what was the hotter idea; being able to fuck someone good enough that they would make that kind of noise, or Nathan being such a veteran auctionboy that he had a full repertoire of moans and groans and wails. The idea that he might be faking it doesn’t bother Peter in the least. Besides, he probably wasn’t. He did come, after Peter did.

Peter began to redress immediately. Nathan didn’t bother, far more comfortable than Peter in the nude. Instead he settled on the bed they didn’t use and stated in an amused tone, “so all it took to get you to make a move was me being an auctionboy.”

Peter didn’t know how to explain it was easier to allow his sexual feelings for his brother come out when he was being sold as something to have sexual feelings for without making Nathan seem like a commodity. He countered with “since when are you an auctionboy? I thought you were going to be a lawyer so you could be a congressman?” 

“This seemed more fun.”

Peter could hardly deny that. “Will you let me bid for you again?”

“You don’t want to-”

Peter cut him off. “Will you be here next Friday?”

“I’m here every night. Hire me whenever you want.”

Maybe he wouldn’t wait until Friday. Maybe he’d come back tomorrow. Maybe he’d come back every day. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. He was a Petrelli.


End file.
